the "blind tiger" of the
Wyker eating-house.

Today the men of the old firm of Champers & Co. were again holding a
meeting in this little room that could have told of much lawless plotting
if walls could only tell.

"It's danged hot in here, Wyker. Open that window," Darley Champers
complained. "What kept you fellows so long, anyhow?"

"Business kep' me, and Smith here, he stop to peek at a pretty girl for
goot as ten minute," Hans Wyker said jocosely.

Champers stared at Thomas Smith, whose small eyes gleamed back at him.

"Oh, I just turned to look at Miss Shirley in the dining room. Can't a man
look at a pretty girl if he is past forty-five? She didn't see me,
though."

"Naw, she see nopotty but young Aydelot sitting mit her. Why you take oop
precious time peekin' trough der crack in der kitchen door? I be back in a
minute vonce. Smitt haf business mit you," Wyker declared as he turned to
the kitchen again.

Left together, the two men sat silent a moment. Then Champers said with a
frown:

"What do you want now? We've got no business with each other except as I
am agent for your rents and mortgages."

"You seem to fatten on them, or something," Smith answered insinuatingly.
"You lose no flesh with the years, I see."

"I've little occasion to worry," Darley Champers replied meaningly.

"Not with a fat income like yours and small returns to your employer who's
kept you all these years," Smith began, but Darley Champers mentally blew
up. It was in the bluffer's game that he always succeeded best.

"Now, see here, dang you. Get to business. You and Wyker and me dissolved
partnership long ago. I've been your agent years and years. I've did my
best. I never got so rich you could notice it on my breath. I'm not a
thief nor a murderer. I keep inside the law. I broke with you fellows
years ago, except straight contract that'll probate in any court. You are
a bully in power and a coward out of it. What the devil do you want with
me? I'm no bank. Be clear and quick about it and quit your infernal
dodgin' human beins like a cut-throat. I've signed your name to no end of
papers for you when you wouldn't put your own left-handed writin' in
sight. I have your written permit safe for doin' it. I reckon somebody
must a' put that right hand of yours out of commission sometime. I'll find
out about it one of these days myself."

Thomas Smith sat looking at the speaker with steady gaze. Many lines
crossed his countenance